《大地之神》查看《大地之神》书评和最新更新以及相关书籍推荐请到《大地之神》专题网址http://www.xiaoshuotxt.com/sanwen/2755/ TXT小说天堂 http://www.xiaoshuotxt.com，最有文艺气息的文学网站，提供经典的文学名著、武侠小说、言情小说、人文社科类书籍在线阅读，所有TXT电子书手机免费下载阅读，我们提供给您的小说不求最多，但求最经典最完整 《大地之神》（第一部分） 小./说。txt天堂 大地之神 当第十二个世代的夜幕降临， 沉寂，夜的高潮， 吞没了山丘， 三位诞生于大地的神祗， 司掌生命的泰坦 出现于高山之巅。 河流在他们脚下奔腾， 云雾在他们胸前级绕， 他们的头颅庄严地高昂于世界之上。 他们开口说话了， 宛若远方的雷鸣， 他们的声音在平原上空回荡。 第一位神 风向东方吹； 我将股转向南方， 因为它使我的鼻息充塞死物的腐味。 第二位神 这是烤炙肉体的香味， 甜美而丰淳， 我愿把它呼吸。 第一位神 此乃无法避免的死亡从其微焰上散发出的气味， 它沉郁地悬滞于空中， 像地狱的污浊之气， 我将把脸转向无嗅无味的北方。 第二位神 这是燃烧着忧思的生命的芬芳， 我现在乃至永远都乐于把它呼吸。 诸神以献祭为肴， 他们的焦渴须用鲜血浇炼。 他们的心靠年轻的灵魂而得抚慰， 他们的肌体因永远的叹息而壮健， 那叹息发自与死亡同居者； 他们的御座高筑于世代沉积的灰烬之上。 第一位神 厌倦是我的全部心境， 我不愿动手去创造一个世界， 也不愿去毁灭一个。 假如我可以死亡， 我不愿意生存， 因为世代的重负压于我身。 大海无休止的呻吟耗尽我的睡梦。 但愿我能抛却初始的目标， 如沉落的夕阳消隐天际， 但愿我能剥去我神性的决心， 将我不朽的生命呼人太空， 直到生命不再延续， 但愿我能被耗损殆尽， 从时间的记忆步入无所不在的空虚。 第三位神 我的兄弟！我古老的兄弟！ 远处山谷的一位青年， 正将他的心声歌与黑夜。 他的弦琴由黄金乌木制成， 他的歌声如宝石， 似白银。 第二位神 我决不徒然化作虚无。 我只能选择最艰险的道路； 去追随季节， 维护日月的尊严； 去撒播种子， 并注视着它们破土而出； 将花蕾从其隐匿之处唤醒， 并赋予它力量去拥抱自己的生命， 然后， 在风暴狂笑于林间时将它采摘； 去把人类从冥冥黑暗中提升， 但让他的根仍紧紧拥抱大地， 赋予他生命的渴望， 让死亡为他斟酒助饮， 赋予他与痛苦同生共长的爱， 这爱为热望升华， 与向往俱增， 然后在第一次拥抱中凋零； 以崇高白昼的梦幻亲绕于他的夜晚， 以对极乐之夜的期幻注入他的白昼， 然后将他的白昼与黑夜幽闭于它们不变的相似中； 让他的想像如山鹰翱翔， 让他的思绪如海上狂涛， 然后赠他一双缓于决断的手和一双因慎思而沉重的足； 让他感受快乐， 他将在我们面前欢歌， 让他感受悲哀， 他将在我们面前呼号； 然后将他置于低地， 当大地在饥饿中为乞食而呼喊时； 把他的灵魂提升于苍穹之上， 如此他便可预尝我们的明日。 让他的身躯卑屈于泥沼之间， 如此他将不会忘记他的昨天。 这样， 我们将支配人类直到时间的尽头， 掌握他的呼吸， 从他母亲的尖叫开始， 到他子孙的哀号结束。 第一位神 我的心焦渴， 然而我不会去饮衰微物种的贫弱之血， 因为杯盏已被污染， 葡萄陈酿在我唇间变成苦涩。 同你一样， 我也曾揉和陶土并赋予它会呼吸的形体， 他们从我指间滑出， 散落于沼泽和山丘。 同你一样， 我也曾照亮生命初始的深沉黑暗， 看着它从洞穴爬上高岩。 同你～样， 我也曾召唤春天将美安置， 让它成为捕捉青年、 强迫他生育和繁衍的诱饵。 同你一样， 我也曾引导人类从一个圣地到另一个圣地。 把他对未见事物的无言的恐惧变为对我们战栗的信仰， 而我们既不被探访， 又不被认知。 同你一样， 我也曾在他头上驾驭狂野的风暴， 如此他才在我们面前俯首， 也曾让大地在他脚下震撼， 直到他向我们呼号； 同你一样， 我也曾掀起大海狂澜冲击他巢居的小岛， 直到他在向我们求告中丧命。 这些皆是我之所为， 甚或更多。 我所做的一切如今只是徒劳而虚幻， 徒劳是醒着， 虚幻是睡着， 三倍的徒劳和虚幻则是做着梦。 第三位神 兄弟们！我令人敬畏的兄弟们！ 在桃金娘的花丛中 一位姑娘正对月翩翩起舞， 露珠般的繁星点缀于她的发际， 千只飞翼翱翔于她的足下。 第二位神 我们把人类植入我们的葡萄藤， 且翻耕泥土于第一个黎明的紫雾中。 我们看着这些贫劣的枝条生长， 在无季岁月的日子里， 我们护理着嫩叶幼芽。 我们保护蓓蕾使其免受发怒自然的伤害， 为抵御一切黑暗精灵我们守卫着花朵， 如今我们的葡萄藤已结出累累硕果 你们却不愿将它拿去榨汁， 倾注杯中。 哪只会比你们的手更强有力的手将去收获果实？ 哪种会比你们的焦渴更为高尚的目的将去期待美酒？ 人类是众神的菜肴， 人类的光荣开始于： 他无目的的呼吸为诸神神圣的唇舌所品啜。 人类的一切将毫无价值， 如果总是人类的； 童年的天真无邪， 青春的甜蜜迷醉， 成人的庄重激情， 暮年的睿智哲理， 帝王的辉煌， 战士的胜利， 诗人的声誉， 梦想家与圣人的荣耀， 所有这些及附带的一切， 皆为众神的面包。 它们将仅仅是未受神祝的面包 ——众神若未将其举到唇边沉默的谷粒也会变为爱的颂歌， ——当它们被夜莺啄食时， 只有作为众神的面包， 人类才能品尝到神性。 第一位神 的确， 人类是众神的肉食！ 人类的最终归宿将是众神永恒的宴桌！ 孕育的痛苦和分娩的痛楚， 婴儿无目的的哭喊刺穿赤裸的夜， 母亲的苦恼与她渴望的睡眼角力， 从她的双乳倾出生命直至枯竭； 青年灼热的呼吸备受折磨， 成人眉额滴下的汗水浇灌着贫瘠的土地， 苍白的老年的悲哀， ——当生命违背生命的意愿把坟墓呼唤。 看哪， 这就是人类！ 因饥饿而繁衍的生物， 成为饥饿的众神的食物。 爬行于不死的死亡脚下尘土中的一株葡萄藤， 开放于恶之阴影笼罩下的夜晚的花朵； 结实于悲惨日子 一一恐怖和羞耻日子里的葡萄。 但你们却仍要我去吃， 去喝。 你们令我坐于殓衣覆盖着的面孔中间， 从木石般的唇中吮吸我的生命， 从枯槁的手中迎接我的永恒。 www.xiaoshuotＸt，coＭ 大地之神（第二部分） ［小.说.t.xt＾天）堂） 大地之神（第二部分） 第三位神 兄弟们！我可畏的兄弟们！ 青年正在三倍深沉地放声歌唱， 青年正在三倍深沉地放声歌唱， 他的歌三倍地高亢， 他的声音震撼森林， 划破天空， 惊散大地的清梦。 第二位神（他总不倾听） 蜜蜂在你耳边刺耳地嗡嗡作响， 蜜糖在你的唇间变为苦涩。 我愿安抚你， 但我该怎样去做？ 当神召唤神， 只有深谷在倾听， 因为横亘于神性间的是深不可测的深渊， 以及无风的天空。 然而我仍愿安慰你， 愿使你阴霾密布的世界重见阳光， 虽然我们的力量和判断力彼此相当， 我仍愿给你忠告。 当大地从混沌中出现， 我们——太初之子， 在无欲的目光中彼此 注视， 我们呼出第一次悄声气息， 那颤抖激发了空气和海洋的流波。 尔后， 我们行走， 手携着手， 在灰色的未成年的世界。 时间从我们带睡意的第一声脚步的回音中诞生。 第四神性 将他的步履踏在我们的足印上， 遮蔽了我们的思想和欲望， 于是他只能借助我们的眼睛去看。 生命降临大地， 灵魂附于生命。 这灵魂乃是宇宙的有翅翼的美妙旋律。 我们掌握着生命与灵魂， 除了我们没有谁知道年月的度量及其朦胧梦幻的分量， 直到我们在第七个世代的 正午， 把大海嫁给太阳。 从他们新婚喜悦的洞房里， 我们引出了人类， 一种虽刚出生， 又很虚弱， 却能承载其世系表征的生物。 通过脚踏大地眼望星空的人类， 我们找到了通向大地远方的路径； 通过人类 ——阴沉的湖边生长的谦卑的芦苇， 我们制出了管笛， 从它空洞的心中， 我们把自己的声音注入这沉寂笼罩的世界。 从没有太阳的北方， 到南方阳光强烈的沙滩， 从日子诞生的、生长莲花的地方， 到日子毁灭的危险的岛屿， 人类， 虚弱的心灵， 被我们的决心激励得过分大胆， 他用琴瑟和刀剑去冒险， 我们的意志是他宣布即将降临的意志， 我们至高无上的权力是他预告了的， 他的被爱踩踏的道路， 是流向我们欲望海洋的江河。 我们， 在世界之巅， 在人类酣眼中做着我们的梦。 我们驱策他的白昼与遥远的黄昏的山谷分离， 在山上去寻找它们的充实。 我们的手臂指引风暴横扫世界， 召唤人类从无果的和平变为多产的动乱， 直至胜利。 在我们眼中有一种将人类灵魂变得激越的洞察力， 将他引向崇高的孤独和反叛的预言， 直至被钉上十字架。 人类生来是被奴役者， 其荣耀与报偿均在被奴役中。 我们在人类中寻找代言人， 在他的生命中我们成就自己， 假如人类的心被尘上堵塞而变聋， 谁的心能回应我们的声音？ 假如人类的眼被黑夜蒙蔽而变盲， 谁能看到我们闪光辉映？ 你们将如何对待人类 ——我们处女心灵的孩子，我们自己的形象？ 第三位神 兄弟们，我强有力的兄弟们！ 舞者的步履已经被音乐迷醉， 它们使空气震颤； 她的双臂像鸽子展翅向上飞去。 第一位 神云雀召唤云雀， 但鹰在上空盘旋， 并不耽搁片刻去倾听歌声。 你们将教我在人类的崇敬中实现自爱， 并以人类服苦役而满足。 但我对自身的爱无止境且无法测量， 我愿超腾于遍及大地不可避免的死亡之外， 置我的御座于苍天之上。 我的手臂将环绕太空，包围星球， 我愿以银河为弓，以繁星为失， 我将以无限征服无限。 但你们不会如此行事， 即使它在你们能力范围之内。 神之于神，一如人之于人。 不仅如此， 你们还将给我疲倦的心带来在云雾中反复徘徊的回忆。 当我的心在山中寻觅自己， 我的眼在眠息的水中追踪自己的形象； 尽管我的昨日已在分娩中死去， 只有沉默造访她的子宫， 风儿吹动， 让轻纱温柔地遮盖了她的胸膛。 哦，昨天！死去的昨天 我被枷戴锁的神性的母亲！ 是何种超神的力量在你飞翔时将作捕获， 并将你在笼中喂养？ 是哪轮骄阳温暖了你的胸腹， 让你生下了我？ 我不祝福你， 也不将你诅咒； 因为你让我背负生命的重荷， 而我又让人类背负了生命的重荷， 但我不像你那般残酷。 我，不朽的，将人造成过路的幻影， 你，正逝的，将我构成不死的。 昨天！死去的昨天！ 你是否将带着遥远的明天归来， 让我携你去接受审判？ 你是否将与生命的第二个黎明一起醒来， 让我抹去你从大地带至且与大地密不可分的记忆？ 但愿你能和往昔的死者一起复苏， 直到大地被它的苦果窒息， 所有海洋因被谋杀其中者而阻滞沉寂， 重重灾难耗尽大地虚幻的肥沃。 第三位神 兄弟们！我圣洁的兄弟们！ 那少女已听到歌声， 现在正寻找职者。 如同一只惊喜的小鹿， 跋山涉水， 四处寻觅。 哦！执著追求中的喜悦！ 专注目标的眼睛半闭着， 微笑着的唇在颤抖， 因它预尝了希望的快乐！ 哪朵鲜花曾从天堂散落， 哪团火焰曾从地狱喷出， 惊动了这颗因这无声的喜悦和恐惧而沉默的心？ 高高在上的我们做着怎样的梦， 何种思想将我们交给了风， 让它唤醒轻眠的山谷， 而自己守望在黑夜中？ 第二位神 神圣的织机交给你， 还有编织的艺术。 织机与艺术将永远属于你， 黑色的线与浅色的线是你的， 紫色的与金色的也是你的。 而你却吝啬得不愿给自己一件衣裳。 你的双手编织人的灵魂， 用流动的空气与燃烧的火， 但现在你愿扯断丝线， 将你熟练灵巧的手指交给无为的永恒。 第一位神不但如此， 我还将我的双手交给未成形的永恒， 将我的双足奉献给未践踏过的土地。 那时常听到的歌中有什么喜悦 ——在其末被擅忆之耳捕捉、在声息屈服于风之前？ 我的心渴望着它无法想像的事物， 我命令我的灵魂前往那末知的、 记忆无法存留的地方。 哦，不要用获得荣誉诱惑我， 也勿企图用你的或我的梦安慰我； 因为我即一切， 而世上所有事物， 所有即将成形的事物， 都不会迷惑我的灵魂。 哦，我的心灵！ 你的面容是沉静的， 在你眼帘后面黑夜的阴影正在酣睡。 但你的沉默是可怕的，而你也是可怕的。 第三位神 兄弟们！我庄严的兄弟们！ 那少女已经找到了歌者， 她痴痴地望着他洋溢喜悦的面庞。 像山豹一般， 她迈着灵巧的步子， 穿行于葡萄藤和羊齿草之间。 现在，他在热切的呼唤声中， 全身心地凝望着她。 哦，我的兄弟们！ 我心不在焉的兄弟们！ 是哪位神， 在激情驱使下织就了这些猩红和银白的网？ 是哪颗放纵的星误人歧途？ 是谁的秘密分隔了夜与晨？ 又是谁的手置于我们的世界之上？ 第一位神 噢，我的灵魂！我的灵魂！ 你点燃了我周围的世界， 我将如何指引你的进程， 我把你的热望导向何处？ 噢，我孤独的灵魂！ 你在饥饿中吞噬你自己， 你用自己的泪水浇灌你的干渴； 因为夜晚未曾收聚露珠倾入你杯， 而白昼也未曾给你带来果实。 噢，我的灵魂！我的灵魂！ 你搁浅的航船满载希望， 你搁浅的航船满载希望， 何时吹来阵风鼓起篷帆？ 什么样的激浪巨潮能解放航舵？ 什么样的激浪巨潮能解放航舵？ 你的锚已经提升，你的翅已经伸展， 但你头上的天空是沉默的， 但你头上的天空是沉默的， 沉寂的大海嘲笑着你的静滞。 你与我究竟有何种期望？ 你与我究竟有何种期望？ 宇宙如何更易？ 天空又显现什么新意向并将之宣告于你？ 天空又显现什么新意向并将之宣告于你？ 圣洁的宇宙的子宫里是否孕育着你的救世主的种子， ——他的洞察力比你更强， ——他的洞察力比你更强， 他的手将把你从羁囚中开释 ＷＷＷ.xiＡosＨuoＴＸＴ.com 大地之神（第三部分） ［小.说.t.xt＾天）堂） 大地之神（第三部分） 第二位神 止住你急切的呼喊， 抑制你炽热心灵的呼吸， 因为无限的双耳已聋， 天空又毫不在意。 我们不可企及， 我们至尊无上， 在我们与无限的永恒之间， 只有虚无， 除却我们无形的激情，及其动机。 你向未知祈求， 未知以飘移的雾包裹自己留驻于你的灵魂里。 是的， 在你的灵魂中你的救主高枕而眠， 睡梦中他看到你警醒的双目看不到的东西。 那就是我们生存的秘密。 你是否愿抛下尚未收获的庄稼， 匆忙地再次耕耘你梦中的土地？ 你为何躲入这人烟渺茫、 满目荒凉之地， 并用你的阴云遮蔽自己， ——在你所有的追随者寻找你， 并盼望着拥在你荫庇下的时刻？ 忍耐，且俯视这世界。 关注你深爱的尚未断乳的孩子们。 大地是你的居所，大地是你的御座； 高踞于人类最高远的梦想之上， 你的手掌握着他的命运。 你不该抛弃他， 那奋斗着想从欢乐与痛苦中接近你的人。 你不会在面对他眼中的渴求时转首他顾。 第一位神 黎明是否将夜之心纳入自己的心中？ 或者，大海是否关注它的尸体？ 似黎明，我的灵魂在我的体内冉冉升起， 赤裸而无任何牵累。 如永不停息的海洋， 我的心抛弃人类和大地的腐渣烂草。 我决不留恋那依恋我的事物， 而愿升腾于我可以企及的高度。 第三位神 兄弟们！看啊，兄弟们！ 他俩相遇了！两个星般跃动的灵魂在空中相遇。 在沉默中他们彼此凝视， 他不再歌唱， 但烈日炙烤的喉咙仍在为歌而颤动； 欢乐的舞在她的四肢中沉寂了， 但并未睡去。 兄弟们！我陌生的兄弟们！ 夜深了， 月光更加明亮， 在草原和大海之间, 一个狂热的声音在呼唤着你们和我。 第二位神 存在，升华，在炽热的太阳下燃烧， 生活，在有生者的夜中守望， 就如俄里翁注视我们！ 高昂起戴着王冠的头迎着四方的风， 用我们无潮汐的声气医治人类的病痛， 制作帐篷者明郁地坐在织机旁， 陶工漠然地转动着他的******， 但我们，不眠的全知者， 已从猜度和臆测中解脱。 我们不停留也不等待思考， 我们超越于一切疑难之上。 满足吧！让梦幻走开。 让我们像江河船奔向大海， 且不被礁石的边缘伤害。 当我们抵达她的心并与之相融， 我们将不再为明天争执和论辩。 第一位神 噢！这永无休止的预言占卜的痛苦！ 这将白昼引向薄暮又将黑夜带至黎明的不服！ 这永远是记忆和遗忘的浪潮！ 这不断播撒命运而仅仅收获希望的耕耘！ 这将自我从泥土拖入云雾的单调不变的提升！ 只因渴望泥土，便怀着对泥土的渴望跌落， 同样，出于更高的渴求再去寻找云雾！ 这对时间无限度的测量！ 我的心灵是否必须变为大海， 它的激流永远彼此撞击， 或变作狂风激战、飓风驰骋的天空？ 如果我是人，一个盲目的碎片， 我定能坚忍地对待这一切。 或者我若是至高的神， 那填补人和诸神空虚的至高的神， 我定会感到满足。 但你们与我，既非人类，亦非高于我们者。 我们只是曙光或薄暮，永远出现与消失， 在地平线与地平线之间。 我们只是众神，支撑世界，又被世界支撑， 当命运吹响号角，声息与音乐从远方传来， 我背叛了。我愿把我的力量耗尽。 我愿从你们的视野中远远消失， 从这位沉默的青年 ——我们的弟弟 ——的记忆中消失； 他坐于我们身边， 凝望远方山谷， 尽管他的唇在动，但未发出声音。 第三位神 我在说，我漫不经心的兄弟们！ 我的确在说，但你们只听到你们自己的言语。 我请你们看你们的荣耀，和我的， 但你们转开，闭上眼睛，晃动着你们的宝座。 你们这些帝王，想获得上界和下界的治权， 自我卑屈的神， 他们的昨天永远嫉妒你们的明天， 自我厌倦的神， 将用言语宣泄你们的激情， 用雷电猛击我们的星球！ 我们的夙怨不过是古老七弦琴的音响， 那琴弦已长年被他的手指遗忘， 他为竖琴创造了俄里翁并为镜投创造了普勒阿得斯。 即使如今， 当你喃喃语、隆隆说时， 他的竖琴在震响，他的烧线在敲击， 我恳求你们听听他的歌。 看哪！男人和女人，火焰映照火焰， 在白炽的狂喜中交融。 根茎吸吮着紫色大地的乳房， 灿烂的花朵开放在天空的胸膛上， 我们就是这紫色的乳房， 我们就是这不朽的天空。 我们的灵魂，甚至生命的灵魂， 你们的和我的灵魂今夜居于焚燃的咽喉， 用欢跳的波浪为少女的胴体着衣。 你们的王权无法支配这命运， 你们的厌倦只因勃勃雄心。 所有这一切均被涂抹去在一个男子和一个少女的激情中。 第二位神 是啊，这男人和女人的爱究竟是什么？ 看！东风怎样同她轻盈的双足共舞， 西风又如何同他的歌声共鸣。 看！我们神圣的意志正登上王座， 当一个歌唱的灵魂屈从于一个欢舞的躯体时。 第一位神 我绝不垂目于大地的虚妄， 也不会俯视处在你们称之为爱的缓慢痛苦中的它的孩子们。 什么是爱？ 仅只是被包裹的沉闷鼓声引导着甜蜜的且无常变化的长队， 走向另一种慢性痛苦么？ 我绝不会垂眼一顾。 瞧那里有什么， 除了森林中的那一男一女？ 那森林不断生长，企图困住他们； 他们可能弃绝自我，和父母的创造， 为了我们未出世的明天。 第三位神 哦，知识的痛苦， 窥探与询问的无星光的天幕， 我们用来遮盖大地； 且对人类的忍耐力进行挑战！ 我们将一个蜡制物置于一块石头下， 说，这是一件陶器， 让它在泥土中去寻找它的末日。 我们将手捧一团火焰， 在心中说，这是我们归途的碎片， 从我们呼吸中逃逸的那一次呼吸， 现在萦绕于我们的手与唇之间， 成为更浓郁的馨香。 大地之神 我的兄弟们！ 即使高踞山巅，我们仍受大地束缚， 通过人对人类命运中黄金时代的渴望。 我们的智慧要从他的眼中摄取美么？ 我们的规范约束会抑制他从而变得沉静的激情或趋向我们的激情么？ 你们理性的军队愿如何在爱中屯驻它的兵丁？ 爱又如何在他们中驻扎它的队伍？ 那些被爱征服的人， 他们身上奔驰着爱的战车从大海到高山， 再从高山到大海， 他们站立着，直到此刻还在羞涩的半拥半抱中。 在片片花瓣中他们呼吸着神圣的芬芳， 灵魂对灵魂，他们寻找着生命的灵魂， 他们的眼睑上卧着一位祈祷者向着你们，也向着我。 爱是一个对着神圣闺房俯身的夜晚， 是一片将草原变为天国、 将所有星辰化作萤火虫的天空。 真的，我们超越一切， 我们至高无上。 但爱却超越了我们的质疑， 它高翔于我们的歌之上。 第二位神 伤寻找着一颗远方的星， 却不愿考虑这颗 你的肌体安居的星？ 宇宙没有中心 除了自我与自我结合之处， 美作证婚人和神甫的地方。 注意！美在我们足间散落， 美为羞辱我们的唇而充塞我们的手。 最遥远者即最近。 美流连的地方正是万物所在之处。 哦，耽于梦幻的高傲的兄弟！ 从时间橡聪的边缘回到我们中来！ 从无境与无时中解放你的双足， 与我们同居于安全之中。 这居所是你的手与我们的手相携用一砖一石建起。 脱去你忧思的外衣，与我们同行， 作绿色的、温暖的年轻大地的主宰者。 第一位神 永恒的祭坛！ 今夜，你是否真的需要有一位神做你的祭品？ 那么现在，我来了，为奉献我的激情与我的痛苦。 看啊！ 那位舞者，她是被我们古老的渴望所雕出， 那位歌者，在迎风高唱着我自己的歌。 在那舞中，在那歌中，一位神在我内心被杀。 隐于我人的胸肋间的神心正大声呼唤我那飘游于大气中的神心。 令我生忧的人类的深渊在向神性呼叫， 我们从一开始就寻找的美在向神性呼叫， 听，我曾权衡过这呼喊，如今我顺从了。 美是一条通向那杀死自我的自我的道路， 弹响你的琴弦， 我将踏上此途， 它永远通向另一个黎明。 第三位神 爱胜利了！ 爱的纯白与嫩绿躺在湖边， 爱的骄傲与庄严在高塔或阳台； 爱在花园里或在荒无人迹的沙漠中， 爱是我们的君王与主人它不是肉体恣肆的衰竭， 亦非欲望的崩溃 ——当欲望与自我搏斗时； 它也不是拿起武器与灵魂抗争的肉体。 爱从不反叛。 它为神圣的森林留下被古老命运踩踏的路， 面对永恒唱出、舞出它的秘密。 爱是挣脱枷锁的青年， 男人从泥沼中获得自由， 女人被火焰温暖， 被那比我们天堂更高远的天空的光焰。 爱是心灵深处的一串笑。 它是一个狂野的冲击， 使你平静从而清醒。 它是大地上又一个新的黎明， 一个尚未到达你我眼帘， 却已到达它那更为伟大心中的白昼。 兄弟们！我的兄弟们！ 新娘来自黎明的心中， 新郎从黄昏而来。 山谷中正在举行婚礼， 一个无比广阔的日子，丰富得难以记述。 第二位神 它就这样， 从第一个清晨 把平原推向高山与低谷， 它就这样， 一直到最后一个日暮。 我们的根已在山谷中生长出飞舞的枝条， 我们是升上至高处的芳歌的花朵。 永恒的与垂死的，是一对向大海呼唤的孪生河流。 在呼唤与呼唤间没有虚空， 虚空仅只存在于耳中。 时间使我们的听觉更加可靠， 并赋予它更多的欲望。 只有垂死中的怀疑才能平息这声响， 我们已超越怀疑。 人类是我们较年轻的心的孩子。 人类是正在缓慢出现的神； 在他的喜悦与痛苦之间， 躺卧着我们的睡眠，及其梦幻。 第一位神 让歌者放声歌唱， 让舞者旋转她的双足， 让我得到片刻的满足， 让我的灵魂在今夜静息。 偶尔我也可能轻眠、沉睡，凝望一个更光明的世界和赋予我思想更多星光的生物。 第三位神 现在我将起身， 让自己摆脱时空， 我将在未被践踏的土地上舞蹈， 那舞者的双足将随我的双足一起跳动； 我将在更高阔的天空中歌唱， 人的声音将在我的声音中震颤。 我们将穿过薄暮或许在另一个世界的黎明醒来。 但爱会长存，它的指纹将不会被抹去。 福佑的熔炉在燃烧， 火花飞溅， 每一颗火花便是一个太阳对于我们， 最正确、最明智之举是： 寻得一个浓荫遮蔽的角落， 并在我们大地的神性中睡去， 让爱，人类的和脆弱的， 去支配即将到来的日子。 www/xiaoshuotxt/c o m The Earth Gods 小＿说txt天＿堂 the earth gods when the night of the twelfth aeon fell, and silence, the high tide of night, swallowed the hills, the three earth-born gods, the master titans of life, appeared upon the mountains. rivers ran about their feet; the mist floated across their breasts, and their heads rose in majesty above the world. then they spoke, and like distant thunder their voices rolled over the plains. first god the wind blows eastward; i would turn my face to the south, for the wind crowds my nostrils with the odors of dead things. second god it is the scent of burnt flesh, sweet and bountiful. i would breathe it. first god it is the odor of mortality parching upon its own faint flame. heavily does it hang upon the air, and like foul breath of the pit it offends my senses. i would turn my face to the scentless north. second god it is the inflamed fragrance of brooding life this i would breathe now and forever. gods live upon sacrifice, their thirst quenched by blood, their hearts appeased with young souls, their sinews strengthened by the deathless sighs of those who dwell with death; their thrones are built upon the ashes of generations. first god weary is my spirit of all there is. i would not move a hand to create a world nor to erase one. i would not live could i but die, for the weight of aeons is upon me, and the ceaseless moan of the seas exhausts my sleep. could i but lose the primal aim and vanish like a wasted sun; could i but strip my divinity of its purpose and breathe my immortality into space, and be no more; could i but be consumed and pass from times memory into the emptiness of nowhere! third god listen my brothers, my ancient brothers. a youth in yonder vale is singing his heart to the night. his lyre is gold and ebony. his voice is silver and gold. second god i would not be so vain as to be no more. i could not but choose the hardest way; to follow the seasons and support the majesty of the years; to sow the seed and to watch it thrust through the soil; to call the flower from its hiding place and give it strength to nestle its own life, and then to pluck it when the storm laughs in the forest; to raise man from secret darkness, yet keep his roots clinging to the earth; to give him thirst for life, and make death his cupbearer; to endow him with love that waxeth with pain, and exalts with desire, and increases with longing, and fadeth away with the first embrace; to girdle his nights with dreams of higher days, and infuse his days with visions of blissful nights, and yet to confine his days and his nights to their immutable resemblance; to make his fancy like the eagle of the mountain, and his thought as the tempests of the seas, and yet to give him hands slow in decision, and feet heavy with deliberation; to give him gladness that he may sing before us, and sorrow that he may call unto us, and then to lay him low, when the earth in her hunger cries for food; to raise his soul high above the firmament that he may foretaste our tomorrow, and to keep his body groveling in the mire that he may not forget his yesterday. thus shall we rule man unto the end of time, governing the breath that began with his mothers crying, and ends with the lamentation of his children. first god my heart thirsts, yet i would not drink the faint blood of a feeble race, for the cup is tainted, and the vintage therein is bitter to my mouth. like thee i have kneaded the clay and fashioned it to breathing forms that crept out of my dripping fingers unto the marshes and the hills. like thee i have kindled the dark depths of beginning life and watched it crawl from caves to rocky heights. like thee i have summoned spring and laid the beauty thereof for a lure that seizes youth and binds it to generate and multiply. like thee i have led man from shrine to shrine, and turned his mute fear of things unseen to tremulous faith in us, the unvisited and the unknown. like thee i have ridden the wild tempest over his head that he might bow before us, and shaken the earth beneath him until he cried unto us; and like thee, led the savage ocean against his nestled isle, till he hath died calling upon us. all this have i done, and more. and all that i have done is empty and vain. vain is the waking and empty is the sleep, and thrice empty and vain is the dream. third god brothers, my august brothers, down in the myrtle grove a girl is dancing to the moon, a thousand dew-stars are in her hair, about her feet a thousand wings. second god we have planted man, our vine, and tilled the soil in the purple mist of the first dawn. we watched the lean branches grow, and through the days of seasonless years we nursed the infant leaves. from the angry element we shielded the bud, and against all dark spirits we guarded the flower. and now that our vine hath yielded the grape you will not take it to the winepress and fill the cup. whose mightier hand than yours shall reap the fruit? and what nobler end than your thirst awaits the wine? man is food for the gods, and the glory of man begins when his aimless breath is sucked by gods hallowed lips. all that is human counts for naught if human it remain; the innocence of childhood, and the sweet ecstasy of youth, the passion of stern manhood, and the wisdom of old age; the splendour of kings and the triumph of warriors, the fame of poets and the honor of dreamers and saints; all these and all that lieth therein is bred for gods. and naught but bread ungraced shall it be if the gods raise it not to their mouths. and as the mute grain turns to love songs when swallowed by the nightingale, even so as bread fo gods shall man taste godhead. first god aye, man is meat for gods! and all that is man shall come upon the gods eternal board! the pain of child-bearing and the agony of childbirth, the blind cry of the infant that pierces the naked night, and the anguish of the mother wrestling with the sleep she craves, to pour life exhausted from her breast; the flaming breath of youth tormented, and the burdened sobs of passion unspent; the dripping brows of manhood tilling the barren land, and the regret of pale old age when life against lifes will calls to the grave. behold this is man! a creature bred on hunger and made food for hungry gods. a vine that creeps in dust beneath the feet of deathless death. the flower that blooms in nights of evil shadows; the grape of mournful days, and days of terror and shame. and yet you would have me eat and drink. you would bid me sit amongst shrouded faces and draw my life from stony lips and from withered hands receive my eternity. third god brothers, my dreaded brothers, thrice deep the youth is singing, and thrice higher is his song. his voice shakes the forest and pierces the sky, and scatters the slumbering of earth. second god (always unhearing) the bee hums harshly in your ears, and foul is the honey to your lips. fain would i comfort you, but how shall i? only the abyss listens when gods call unto gods, for measureless is the gulf that lies between divinities, and windless is the space. yet i would comfort you, i would make serene your clouded sphere; and though equal we are in power and judgement, i would counsel you. when out of chaos came the earth, and we, sons of the beginning, beheld each other in the lustless light, we breathed the first hushed, tremulous sound that quickened the currents of air and sea. then we walked, hand in hand, upon the gray infant world, and out of the echos of our first drowsy steps time was born, a fourth divinity, that sets his feet upon our footprints, shadowing our thoughts and desires, and seeing only with our eyes. and unto earth came life, and unto life came the spirit, the winged melody of the universe. and we ruled life and spirit, and none save us knew the measure of the years nor the weight of years nebulous dreams, till we, at noontide of the seventh aeon, gave the sea in marriage to the sun. and from the inner chamber of their nuptial ecstasy, we brought man, a creature who, though yielding and infirm, bears ever the marks of his parentage. through man who walks earth with eyes upon the stars, we find pathways to earths distant regions; and of man, the humble reed growing beside dark waters, we make a flute through whose hollowed heart we pour our voice to the silence-bound world. from the sunless north to the sun-smitten sand of the south. from the lotus land where days are born to perilous isles where days are slain, man the faint hearted, overbold by our purpose, ventures with lyre and sword. ours is the will he heralds, and ours the sovereignty he proclaims, and his love trodden courses are rivers, to the sea of our desires. we, upon the heights, in mans sleep dream our dreams. we urge his days to part from the valley of twilights and seek their fullness upon the hills. our hands direct the tempests that sweep the world and summon man from sterile peace to fertile strife and on to triumph. in our eyes is the vision that turns mans soul to flame, and leads him to exalted loneliness and rebellious prophecy, and on to crucifixion. man is born to bondage, and in bondage is his honor and his reward. in man we seek a mouthpiece, and in his life our self fulfillment. whose heart shall echo our voice if the human heart is deafened with dust? who shall behold our shining if mans eye is blinded with night? and what would you do with man, child of our earliest heart, our own self image? third god brothers, my mighty brothers, the dancers feet are drunk with songs. they set the air a-throbbing, and like doves her hands fly upward. first god the lark calls to the lark, but upward the eagle soars, nor tarries to hear the song. you would teach me self love fulfilled in mans worship, and content with mans servitude. but my self love is limitless and without measure. i would rise beyond my earthbound mortality and throne me upon the heavens. my arms woud girdle space and encompass the spheres. i would take the starry way for a bow, and the comets for arrows, and with the infinate would i conquer the infinite. but you would not do this, were it in your power. for ever as man is to man, so are gods to gods. nay, you would bring to my weary heart remembrance of cycles spent in mist, when my soul sought itself among the mountains and mine eyes pursued their own image in slumbering waters; though my yesterday died in child-birth and only silence visits her womb, and the wind strewn sand nestles at her breast. oh yesterday, dead yesterday, mother of my chained divinity, what super-god caught you in your flight and made you breed in the cage? what giant sun warmed your bosom to give me birth? i bless you not, yet i would not curse you; for even as you have burdened me with life so i have burdened man but less cruel have i been. i, immortal, made man a passing shadow; and you, dying, conceived me deathless. yesterday, dead yesterday, shall you return with distant tomorrow, that i may bring you to judgment? and will you wake with lifes second dawn that i may erase your earth-clinging memory from the earth? would that you might rise with all the dead of yore, till the land choke with its own bitter fruit, and all the seas be stagnant with the slain, and woe upon woe exhaust earths vain fertility. third god brother, my sacred brothers, the girl has heard the song. and now she seeks the singer. like a fawn in glad surprise she leaps over rocks and streams and turns her to every side. oh, the joy in mortal intent, the eye of purpose half-born; the smile on lips that quiver with foretaste of promised delight! what flower has fallen from heaven, what flame has risen from hell. that startled the heart of silence to this breathless joy and fear? what dream dreamt we upon the height, what thought gave we to the wind that woke the drowsing valley and made watchful the night? second god the sacred loom is given you, and the art to weave the fabric. the loom and the art shall be yours for evermore, and yours the dark thread and the light, and yours the purple and the gold. yet you would grudge yourself a raiment. your hands have spun mans soul from living air and fire, yet now you would break the thread, and lend your versed fingers to an idle eternity. first god nay, unto eternity unmoulded i would give my hands, and to untrodden fields assign my feet. what joy is there in songs oft heard, whose tune the remembering ear arrests ere the breath yields it to the wind? my heart longs for what my heart conceives not, and unto the unknown where memory dwells not i would command my spirit. oh, tempt me not with glory possessed, and seek not to comfort me with your dream or mine, for all that i am, and all that there is on earth, and all that shall be, inviteth not my soul. oh my soul, silent is thy face, and in thine eyes the shadows of night are sleeping. but terrible is thy silence, and thou art terrible. third god brothers, my solemn brothers, the girl has found the singer. she sees his raptured face. panther-like she slips with subtle steps through rustling vine and fern. and now amid his ardent cries he gazes full on her. oh my brothers, my heedless brothers, is it some other god in passion who has woven this web of scarlet and white? what unbridled star has gone astray? whose secret keepeth night from morning? and whose hand is upon our world? first god oh my soul, my soul, thou burning sphere that girdles me, how shall i guide thy course. and unto what space direct thy eagerness? oh my mateless soul, in thy hunger thou preyest upon thyself, and with thine own tears thou wouldst quench thy thirst; for night gathers not her dew into thy cup, and the day brings thee no fruit. oh my soul, my soul, thou grounded ship laden with desire, whence shall come the wind to fill thy sail, and what higher tide shall release thy rudder? weighed is thine anchor and thy wings would spread, but the skies are silent above thee, and the still sea mocks at thy immobility. and what hope is there for thee and me? what shifting of worlds, what new purpose in the heavens, that shall claim thee? does the womb of the virgin infinite bear the seed of thy redeemer, one mightier than thy vision whose hand shall deliver thee from thy captivity? second god hold your importunate cry, and the breath of your burning heart, for deaf is the ear of the infinite, and heedless is the sky. we are the beyond and we are the most high, and between us and boundless eternity is naught save our unshaped passion and the motive thereof. you invoke the unknown, and the unknown clad with moving mist dwells in your own soul. yea, in your own soul your redeemer lies asleep, and in sleep sees what your waking eye does not see. and that is the secret of our being. would you leave the harvest ungathered, in haste to sow again the dreaming furrow? and wherefore spread you your cloud in trackless fields and desolate, when your own flock is seeking you, and would fain gather in your own shadow? forbear and look down upon the world. behold the unweaned children of your love. the earth is your abode, and the earth is your throne; and high beyond mans furtherest hope your hand upholds his destiny. you would not abandon him who strives to reach you through gladness and through pain. you would not turn away your face from the need in his eyes. first god does dawn hold the heart of night unto her heart? or shall the sea heed the bodies of her dead? like dawn my soul rises within me naked and unencumbered. and like the unresting sea my heart casts out a perishing wrack of man and earth. i would not cling to that clings to me. but unto that that rises beyond my reach i would arise. third god brothers, behold, my brothers, they meet, two star-bound spirits in the sky encountering. in silence they gaze the one upon the other. he sings no more, and yet his sunburnt throat throbs with the song; and in her limbs the happy dance is stayed but not asleep. brothers, my strange brothers, the night waxeth deep, and brighter is the moon, and twixt the meadow and the sea a voice in rapture calleth you and me. second god to be, to rise, to burn before the burning sun, to live, and to watch the nights of the living as orion watches us! to face the four winds with a head crowned and high, and to heal the ills of man with our tideless breath! the tentmaker sits darkly at his loom, and the potter turns his wheel unaware; but we, the sleepless and the knowing, we are released from guessing and from chance. we pause not nor do we wait for thought. we are beyond all restless questioning. be content and let the dreaming go. like rivers let us flow to ocean unwounded by the edges of the rocks; and when we reach her heart and are merged, no more shall we wrangle and reason of tomorrow. first god oh, this ache of ceaseless divining, this vigil of guiding the day unto twilight, and the night unto dawn; this tide of ever remembering and forgetting; this ever sowing destinies and reaping but hopes; this changeless lifting of self from dust to mist, only to long for dust, and to fall down with longing unto dust, and still with greater longing to seek the mist again. and this timeless measuring of time. must my soul needs to be a sea whose currents forever confound one another, or the sky where the warring winds turn hurricane? were i man, a blind fragment, i could have met it with patience. or if i were the supreme godhead, who fills the emptiness of man and of gods, i would be fulfilled. but you and i are neither human, nor the supreme above us. we are but twilights ever rising and ever fading between horizon and horizon. we are but gods holding a world and held by it, fates that sound the trumpets whilst the breath and the music come from beyond. and i rebel. i would exhaust myself to emptiness. i would dissolve myself afar from your vision, and from the memory of this silent youth, our younger brother, who sits beside us gazing into yonder valley, and though his lips move, utters not a word. third god i speak, my unheeding brothers, i do indeed speak, but you hear only your own words. i bid you see your glory and mine, but you turn, and close your eyes, and rock your thrones. ye sovereigns who would govern the above world and the world beneath, god self-bent, whose yesterday is ever jealous of your tomorrow, self-weary, who would unleash your temper with speech and lash our orb with thunderings! your feud is but the sounding of an ancient lyre whose strings have been half forgotten by his fingers who has orion for a harp and the pleiades for cymbals. even now, while you are muttering and rumbling, his harp rings, his cymbals clash, and i beseech you hear his song. behold, man and woman, flame to flame, in white ecstacy. roots that suck at the breast of purple earth, flame flowers at the breasts of the sky. and we are the purple breast, and we are the enduring sky. our soul, even the soul of life, your soul and mine, dwells this night in a throat enflamed, and garments the body of a girl with beating waves. your sceptre cannot sway this destiny, your weariness is but ambition. this and all is wiped away in the passion of a man and a maid. second god yea, what of this love of man and woman? see how the east wind dances with her dancing feet, and the west wind rises singing with his song. behold our sacred purpose now enthroned, in the yielding of a spirit that sings to a body that dances. first god i will not turn my eyes downward to the conceit of earth, nor to her children in their slow agony that you call love. and what is love, but the muffled drum and leads the long procession of sweet uncertainty to another slow agony? i will not look downward. what is there to behold save a man and a woman in the forest that grew to trap them that they might renounce self and parent creatures for our unborn tomorrow? third god oh, the affliction of knowing, the starless veil of prying and questioning which we have laid upon the world; and the challenge to human forbearance! we would lay under a stone a waxen shape and say, it is a thing of clay, and in clay let it find its end. we would hold in our hands a white flame and say in our heart, it is a fragment of ourselves returning, a breath of our breath that had escaped, and now haunts our hands and lips for more fragrance. earth gods, my brothers, high upon the mountain, we are still earth-bound, through man desiring the golden hours of mans destiny. shall our wisdom ravish beauty from his eyes? shall our measures subdue his passion to stillness, or to our own passion? what would your armies of reasoning where love encamps his host? they who are conquered by love, and upon whose bodies loves chariot ran from sea to mountain and again form mountain to the sea, stand even now in a shy half-embrace. petal unto petal they breathe the sacred perfume, soul to soul they find the soul of life, and upon their eyelids lies a prayer unto you and unto me. love is a night bent down to a bower anointed, a sky turned meadow, and all the stars to fireflies. true it is, we are the beyond, and we are the most high. but love is beyond our questioning, and love outsoars our song. second god seek you a distant orb, and would not consider this star where your sinews are planted? there is no centre in space save where self is wedded to self, and beauty filling our hands to shame our lips. the most distant is the most near. and where beauty is, there are all things. oh, lofty dreaming brother, return to us from times dim borderland! unlace your feet from no-where and no-when, and dwell with us in this security which your hand intertwined with ours has builded stone upon stone. cast off your mantle of brooding, and comrade us, masters of the young earth green and warm. first god eternal altar! wouldst thou indeed this night a god for sacrifice? now then, i come, and coming i offer up my passion and my pain. lo, there is the dancer, carved out of our ancient eagerness, and the singer is crying mine own songs unto the wind. and in that dancing and in that singing a god is slain within me. my god-heart within my human ribs shouts to my god-heart in mid-air. the human pit that wearied me calls to divinity. the beauty that we have sought from the beginning calls unto divinity. i heed, and i have measured the call, and now i yield. beauty is a path that leads to self self-slain. beat your strings i will to walk the path. it stretches ever to another dawn. third god love triumphs. the white and green of love beside a lake, and the proud majesty of love in tower or balcony; love in a garden or in the desert untrodden, love is our lord and master. it is not a wanton decay of the flesh, nor the crumbling of desire when desire and self are wrestling; nor is it flesh that takes arms against the spirit. love rebels not. it only leaves the trodden way of ancient destinies for the sacred grove, to sing and dance its secret to eternity. love is youth with chains broken, manhood made free from the sod, and womanhood warmed by the flame and shining with the light of heaven deeper than our heaven. love is a distant laughter in the spirit. it is a wild assault that hushes you to your awakening. it is a new dawn unto the earth, a day not yet achieved in your eyes or mine, but already achieved in its own greater heart. brothers, my brothers, the bride comes from the heart of dawn, and the bridegroom from the sunset. there is a wedding in the valley. a day too vast for recording. second god thus has it been since the first morn discharged the plains to hill and vale, and thus shall it be to the last even-tide. our roots have brought forth the dancing branches in the valley, and we are the flowering of the song-scent that rises to the heights. immortal and mortal, twin rivers calling to the sea. there is no emptiness between call and call, but only in the ear. time maketh our listening more certain, and giveth it more desire. only doubt in mortal hushes the sound. we have outsoared the doubt. man is a child of our younger heart. man is god in slow arising; and betwixt his joy and his pain lies our sleeping, and the dreaming thereof. first god let the singer cry, and let the dancer whirl her feet and let me be content awhile. let my soul be serene this night. perchance i may drowse, and drowsing behold a brighter world and creatures more starry supple to my mind. third god now i will rise and strip me of time and space, and i wil dance in that field untrodden, and the dancers feet will move with my feet; and i will sing in that higher air, and a human voice will throb within my voice. we shall pass into the twilight; perchance to wake to the dawn of another world. but love shall stay, and his finger-marks shall not be erased. the blessed forge burns, the sparks rise, and each spark is a sun. better it is for us, and wiser, to seek a shadowed nook and sleep in our earth divintiy, and let love, human and frail, command the coming day. wＷw。xiaoshuo txt.coＭ TXT小说天堂 http://www.xiaoshuotxt.com，最有文艺气息的文学网站，手机直接阅读下载请登陆http://m.xiaoshuotxt.com，所有TXT电子书手机免费下载阅读，我们提供给您的小说不求最多，但求最经典最完整